


This Is Us

by entanglednow



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fuck Or Die, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-29
Updated: 2010-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-14 17:30:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/151717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entanglednow/pseuds/entanglednow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is going to save him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Is Us

Castiel is close.

Even for Cas this is close, personal space a thing of the past. The conversation they're having isn't exactly the sort of thing that Dean wants to be close for. Though the farther away they stay from the creepy sigil-laden walls the better.

"So," Dean starts, voice sounding like grit across his teeth. "This room is going to kill me unless we -"

Castiel doesn't finish the sentence for him. His expression is serious but calm.

"They wish to damage your effectiveness and your state of mind by forcing you to violate me," he explains. Which is the same thing, only with more _bad_ words.

Dean stares at the walls, crawling red and black like words live inside them. It's hands down the most messed up magic he's ever seen.

He can't make words in response to Castiel, he just draws his mouth tight, shakes his head, because that's not happening. Let the walls eat him alive. He's certain of that, he's _sure._

And then Castiel's fingers touch the back of his hand.

"There will be no force involved, I give you permission."

"Cas," he says sharply. Because that's not how things get done, they don't just give in. They don't do things like that.

He's pretty sure they _shouldn't_ do things like that.

Though the pain and the bleeding from the eyes and eventual death thing, yeah, Dean's not exactly thrilled about that either.

"You have my permission Dean." Castiel's calm sensible voice makes it worse. Like he's thought this through and decided it's acceptable, that it's something he's willing to do. Castiel is going to save him, he's going to let him -

Dean clears his throat.

Then clears it again.

"I understand that you feel uncomfortable," Castiel says slowly. "But it's wrong to think of this as a violation, this body is not sacred."

"Could you not talk, it'll be easier if you don't talk," Dean says quickly in what's completely the wrong tone of voice. Because he's pretty much accepted that it's going to happen now and he wants to spend a moment hating himself a little bit.

Castiel expression is briefly awkward, like he realises he's said something wrong, but he shuts his mouth, pointedly.

Dean sighs.

"I mean obviously you can talk just - Jesus - nothing that involves the word _violation_ please."

"I understand," Castiel says quietly, and then when Dean can't think of anything else to say the angel starts very carefully removing his clothes.

Dean honestly would say something if he could think of something to say. Every one of Castiel's movements is efficient and careful. Like he's exploring his undressing talents. He's so fucking new and Dean's pretty sure no part of this is going to feel good.

He turns on the floor, one scrape of boots on concrete, so they're left looking at each other. Dean knows he's going to have to start this, that Castiel won't, that he can't.

"I'm going to kiss you," he says stupidly. Like it might come as some sort of terrible surprise.

"Yes," Castiel agrees.

Dean lifts his hands from the cold of the floor, finds Castiel's hair, warm under and between his fingers, and the soft skin at the back of his neck. It's weird, it's not the way they touch, it's too close, too warm, too sexual and it almost throws him off completely.

And then Castiel's eyes half-close, one slow drift of acceptance and he can't quite stop himself.

Castiel's mouth is air cool, still and soft when he crushes it with his own. It stays that way, stays cold and still for all that it gives under pressure

Dean pulls away, clears his throat.

"Look, Cas, I'm going to freak out a lot less if you're actually a part of this."

"I thought it would be easier for you if I remained passive," Castiel says quietly. He sounds uncertain for the first time.

"No, no I'm fairly sure that will just make me feel like a creepy rapist," Dean manages through a dry mouth.

He undresses quickly, awkwardly until there's just skin and hesitant touches more to find their way against each other than anything else; to find out how they'll fit together. But Castiel is warm and naked, obviously and strangely and Dean isn't sure how to touch him. He knows he can't just spread his legs and fuck him.

"Dean, you don't have to prepare me," Castiel says, like he's listening.

"Shut up," Dean says tightly, angrily, because this isn't just some mechanical thing and Castiel is not just some goddam sex robot.

He spits into his hand, and prepares him in quick, shaky movements. Until there's nothing to do but spread Castiel's thighs a little wider, press close and then - God - in on one broken breath.

"Cas," the word is hot, shaken against the edge of his cheek. Because, _oh God._

Castiel's fingers tighten at his waist and there's a ragged flare of breath against his throat. Dean's all the way inside, and it's good. It's tight and sharply wrong and this is never what they were meant to be. But Dean's never had anyone give so easily. Never had anyone pull him in with shaking hands and open and just _take_ everything.

It's Castiel who encourages him to move, who makes quiet noises when he does. Noises that sound raw and new where Dean drags them out of him. He thinks he should feel guilty and ashamed but they trail over his skin, across his mouth and he can't do anything but lean closer. He watches Castiel's eyes go dark, watches the way his mouth opens on every push. He's losing, losing it all because there's no distance here any more. There's just them.

Dean's left murmuring Castiel's name against his skin. Until the angel turns his head and suddenly they're kissing, they're kissing like the fucking world is ending. Dean's lifting one of Castiel's thighs, bending it so he can get deeper and the angel's making hard breathless noises every time Dean pushes into him, every time.

They're too close and it's too much. Dean's fairly sure he's being too rough. For all that Castiel's unbreakable this is his first time and there's no excuse, no fucking excuse for how hard he's pushing. But Castiel's breathing like he's real now, fingers slipping on the sweat at Dean's waist and Dean feels like he's on fire. He has to break away to drag a breath, knee a burst of intermittent pain against the concrete floor.

Castiel pulls him down again, breath a mess of heat against his mouth.

"Cas," Dean says roughly. It sounds like he's begging for something, for anything, ragged and confused and desperate.

"Don't stop," Castiel says fiercely and Dean groans because he couldn't, couldn’t even if he wanted to.

He's going to say as much but Castiel's already lost. His fingers dig into Dean's waist hard enough to hurt, eyes too bright and then suddenly shut, before he comes. Dean's breath goes all to pieces while he watches, watches that visceral human reaction.

The angel's suddenly tight and brutally real and burning and Dean can't do anything but press in deep and hard and lose it, one long messy shudder that leaves him dizzy and shaking, murmuring meaningless rubbish against the relaxed redness of Castiel's mouth.

God.

This.

This is what they're meant to be.


End file.
